Dain tried to intervene in the argument. “But I—”

“You what?” Sir Polquin snapped impatiently. “If you have romantic notions of riding off alone, put them aside. You’re a chevard now, damne! No lord of consequence in this realm goes anywhere without a protector at his back, and so you should know it.”

“If I’m not pleasing to your lordship,” Sir Terent said stiffly, beginning to look hurt, “then choose another. Alard here, if you must, but choose one of us.” Dain realized he was mishandling everything, standing before them gape-mouthed like a serf. He met Sir Terent’s eyes. “I’m honored to have your service as my protector, sir. There’s no one else I would choose.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sir Polquin said.

Sir Alard shut his mouth with a snap.

Sir Terent grinned broadly enough to reveal his missing teeth. He bowed to Dain.

“I’ll see to your horse, m’lord.”

“I’m going as well,” Sir Polquin announced. He glowered at Dain as though to forbid him any protest.

“Thank you, sir,” Dain said mildly.

With a stiff nod and a harrumph, Sir Polquin turned on his heel and stalked off.  Sir Alard and Thum still stood there. The knight’s aristocratic face was drawn tight with anger and disapproval. Dain did not understand what had offended him, but he knew he must do something to smooth over the problem. He wanted to make no new enemies this sad day.